slight disagreements
by bookish-type-7
Summary: Lily Evans is in her sixth year at Hogwarts. Infuriatingly, so is James Potter. How will these two finish up their final years at Hogwarts?


Not sure exactly how long this is going to be, but I'm hoping it'll be awhile- I'm totally re-going-through my Harry Potter phase. Not like I ever left it, honestly.

Thanks a billion to TheAsianMarauder, she is fabulous and amazing and can edit incredibly.

Here we go!

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"POTTER, I AM GOING TO TAKE YOUR WAND AND STICK IT RIGHT UP YOUR-"

"Now, now, Evans, you kiss your mother with that mouth? Because-"

"Potter, don't you get smart with me. Get. This. Purple. Dye. Out. Of. My. Hair."

Sighing, Potter looked as though he wanted to do anything rather than turn my hair back to its rightful ginger color, but Sirius came to my rescue. Merlin knows he at least has a damn bit more sense than Potter (even if it's not by much). Sirius, with a swish of his wand, removed any violet traces and almost apologetically set it back to normal. The only reason he did it, I'm sure, is because he knew I could (and would) hex him to his grave if he had left it there. "Evans, Jesus. Breathe," Sirius said, and it was only because he'd helped me that I didn't get on him too.

I admit it myself, I can be scary. That was me, two seconds prior to now- when dear Potter decided I'd be much more attractive with deep purple streaks in my ginger locks. No, they do not hide my ghastly freckles, as one might somehow think, but simply make them 500% more awful, which is quite difficult to do, since they're already dreadful enough.

Usually a bit of shouting gets Potter to undo whatever awful hexes he undoubtedly cast, but this time he didn't seem to be budging. Perhaps he was growing immune? Merlin knew I shouted at him enough. But thank God for Sirius, wonder of Gryffindor house, who has ten times less will than Potter.

"Alright, Potter," I nearly spat (but hopefully somewhat elegantly) into his face. "What possibly could've possessed you? Or are you just that stupid to think that you could get away with this?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sirius slink away slowly and quietly. _I'll let him get away with this one_, I thought.

"Stupid? Really, Evans, stupid? I thought I was doing well, considering I recall someone needing tutoring in both Transfiguration and Charms?" Potter smirked, finding a fault in my argument.

I internally scream. Damn it! I hoped he wouldn't bring that up. Those tutoring sessions with him were always so strained- by the end we were shaking with tension. Potter and I could never stay still that long without shouting at each other. Those forty-five minutes twice a week were truly the closest we ever got to getting along, but it's mostly because Madam Pince would have our heads if we had shouting matches in the library.

I let out something close to a snarl (I never knew I could actually make that sound, wow) because Potter was seriously ticking me off. Apply to my intellect? Great way to piss me off. "And how's that potions grade going? As I recall, your Wolfsbane wasn't going too hot last time I checked."

Potter stepped closer to me. We were nearly nose-to-nose, but we were shouting loud enough for the entire Gryffindor common room (and probably the dormitories) to hear. It was kind of disorienting really, feeling his breath on my lips- it was kind of chocolatey. Not bad- though I knew it was from the cakes at dinner. Nonetheless, I lifted my head the tiniest bit- damn the height difference- to look into his dark eyes. I could see them clearly at this distance.

He retorted quickly. "I'm sure if Slughorn favored me-"

I interrupt. "Excuses, excuses-"

"Everyone knows he likes you best! If he didn't invite you to all those little parties-"

"Merlin, I always knew you were jealous-"

"Jealous! He's probably just creeping on the lot of his little 'Slug Club-'"

I was about done with him. Taking my intellect and turning it into pedophilia? I simply wasn't having any of it. I frowned. I gave him my best Lily Death Glare.

"You're going to turn me into his object? Gross, Potter, I don't want to know your fantasies."

Potter's nose crinkled. I had him. Sweet Merlin, I had him! We were so close as we argued, I could see the blush creeping up his cheeks. Then he resorted to being haughty.

"Nasty, Evans. As if I'd dream about you in the first place," he said, chin high.

Did he go there? Did he really go there? Only me, myself, and I are to call myself unattractive. I knew I was ugly. Doesn't mean I liked it when someone else mentioned it, though. But I held together.

"Mmmm, I'm sure, Potter," I sighed, looking at him up through my lashes. "I'm sure that's true when you asked me out last week."

I turned around, walked away, and grabbed my messenger bag from one of the couches. "Night," I told him, stepping up to the girls' dormitories. When I snuck a glance back at him, he was just a tall, disheveled-looking boy, eyebrows raised, whose hair wasn't neat in the slightest. His hair was so infuriating. It was so messy- it'd been that way since first year. You almost felt the urge to mess it up and put your hands through it for him.

As I slyly watched, he sighed, picked up his bag from an armchair, slung it over his shoulders, and stepped up the staircase, probably to rat out Sirius for leaving or something. As he walked, he ran his fingers through his hair, looking like a scruffy dog with those dark eyes.

_God, Lily_, I told myself. Dwelling on James Potter's looks will do you no kind of good. What would Marlene say? Wasn't she always saying stuff about how you don't need to think about men- they shouldn't define you anyways? Oh well. She was right- and I should probably think more about my Transfiguration than James Potter. Professor McGonagall was on my tail for homework already, and it was only the start of the year.

Opening the door to my dormitory, I heard talking go immediately go silent at the sight of me. I caught I glimpse of the disapproving faces of Rachel Vane, Cindy Chang, and Linsa MacMillan, gossip queens of Hogwarts six years before Rachel leaned across and yanked the curtain closed, a scandalous eyebrow raised. The whispers resumed.

Rachel had hated me since I'd stepped onto Hogwarts grounds. That girl could spread a rumor like wildfire, and honestly, I was lucky she hadn't said anything worse about me than small crushes on the lesser-known students. But naturally, I'd disliked her back, the way girls do, and then when she'd dated Potter back in third year, it was like a whole new level of hatred. Potter and I had natural polar magnetism (which is a term I made up to show that we attract about as much as two of the same poles in a magnet. Which is none.), so it'd make sense that I'd have the same thing with anyone he was possibly compatible with. Though to be honest, I don't know why anyone would date him. First of all, he's asked me out a ridiculous number of times (So. Much. Humiliation. And not like he'd actually want to date me- he just revels in his ability to embarrass me.) and also he's just a plain arse besides that.

I plopped down on my bed, ignoring the gossip, and took my books out of my bag. Turning Advanced Transfiguration to its bookmark, I reread the sections on hair-changing. Hmm. Maybe I should take a leaf out of this book. Curse Potter and his natural aptitude for every subject except potions, or else I'd have gotten this hair-color changing thing learned a week ago.

I sighed. If those girls would stop their whispering about Potter's "arse that seems to shine like a balloon in the light" then maybe I could actually study. Those are actual quotes, I'm not joking. And maybe if the rest of the school would see him as I do, not for his arse, but as an arse, then I think we'd be better off. Maybe I should campaign around the school, spreading awareness about the evil that is James Potter.

I close my book, having maybe understood how to change your eyebrows aqua. Maybe. But skin-changing would have to wait until tomorrow. I brush my teeth, slip into pajamas, and climb into bed, but not before yelling at Rachel to shut up about Amos Diggory's biceps. I draw my curtains, think about whether the campaign posters should feature Potter and his messy hair, before mentally slapping myself for thinking about him yet _again_, and I finally went to sleep.

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Thanks for reading! The next chapter should be up in at the most a week. (:


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